The slaves, male and female, draw water, cut fuel, or go to the
distant plantations for yams and bananas; whilst the youngsters
romp, play and tease the village idiot--there is one in almost
every settlement. Briefly, the day is spent in idleness, except,
as has been said, for a short time preceding the rains.
When the sun nears the western horizon, the hunter and the slaves
return home, and the housewife, who has been enjoying the
"coolth" squatting on her dwarf stool at her hut-door, and
puffing the preparatory pipe,--girds her loins for the evening
meal, and makes every one "look alive." When the last rays are
shedding their rich red glow over the tall black trees which hem
in the village, all torpidity disappears from it. The fires are
trimmed, and the singing and harping, which were languid during
the hot hours, begin with renewed vigour. The following is a
specimen of a boating-song:
(Solo.) "Come, my sweetheart!"
( Chorus.) "Haste, haste!"
(Solo) 'How many things gives the white man?'
(Chorus chants all that it wants.)
(Solo) 'What must be done for the white man?"
(Chorus improvises all his requirements)
(Solo) "How many dangers for the black girl?"
(Chorus) "Dangers from the black and the white man!"
The evening meal is eaten at 6 P.
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